


you are not Yoda, and I’m not Luke Skywalker

by TheColorBlue



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes
Genre: Gen, Multiplicity/Plurality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheColorBlue/pseuds/TheColorBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner mentors Hulk, kind of. Jan gives Hulk haircuts. And Tony <a href="http://youtu.be/w4s0UqrZVgc">eats tofu</a> for breakfast. What else is new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are not Yoda, and I’m not Luke Skywalker

The agreement had been that Bruce would allow Hulk to control the body, on the condition that he joined the Avengers and, well, you know, grew up a little. 

The last had not been said in so many words, but that was what Bruce had always intended, and Bruce was pretty sure that most people wouldn’t get why he had made that kind of decision. Give up your freedom so that a green “rage monster” could waltz around town trying to be a hero? What kind of lunatic even did that, and the answer to that question was apparently Bruce Banner. No, he didn’t regret the decision he had made three months ago. Actually, seeing as he was now sitting on the couch of the Avenger’s Mansion, catching the tail end of some daytime soap opera, he felt supremely vindicated regarding his reckless life decisions, thank you very much. At the moment, he was wearing shorts that were several times too large for him, and he needed a shave, and maybe lunch, but here he was, and there Hulk was, in the back of their mind, mumbling something gruffly about _being bored_ , and _whatever, Banner could have the body right now_ , before shuffling off for a nap. Bruce smiled, knowing that was the closest to a friendly remark he was going to get out of Hulk, presently. 

Three months ago, he had decided to take that leap and trust Hulk with his life and their body. It had been quite possible that, given the choice, Hulk would never let Banner out again, but Bruce hadn’t believed that would happen. Call him a hopeless optimist, but he really did believe that Hulk had a good heart in him, and that given time he’d grow up and mature and figure out that there was more to life than being furious at the world, and giving other people a difficult time, and actually making something of himself. That was really the whole reason he’d made that bargain with Hulk. He had felt that Hulk needed time to grow, and people to grow up with and around. It would be to both his and Hulk’s benefit for Hulk to have that time for himself. Banner could have used a kind of vacation, anyway, after a few years of being on the run from the military. Besides, in the event that anything drastic did happen, Banner was a smart guy, he figured he could make a break from being a wallflower and take over again if he really, really needed to do it. He didn’t like to think about that kind of situation being necessary though. It would do absolutely no good for their Banner and Hulk trust exercises if he had to give the jump on the big guy like that. 

The soap opera was yammering on about the usual silliness, _you’ve been sleeping with my brother’s cousins’s ex, how dare you_ —and Bruce pulled up his shorts, turned off the television, and then went upstairs. He wanted a bubble bath. He needed a shave. He was also going to give himself a haircut because, yeesh. 

Although, honestly. Hulk was interesting because you wouldn’t think that the Hulk would care about cleanliness and that kind of presentation, but Hulk liked to put in the effort. He took care of himself the same way anyone else would. He brushed his teeth in the mornings, took showers in the enormous bathroom Stark had specifically redesigned for a person of Hulk’s size, and let Jan give him haircuts. Hulk was not an animal; he’d glare threateningly at anyone who suggested otherwise. The Hulk knew how to be on time for appointments, which was more than could be said for some other people… and he was gentle with kids and small animals. The Hulk was no monster.

That said, switching back to Banner from Hulk, Bruce found that he was clean, but he still wanted that bubble bath. Also, his hair was a mess, and he needed clothes. A shirt at least. He walked down the upstairs hall to Clint’s bedroom and knocked. Hawkeye wasn’t always around, but today Bruce was lucky, because now Clint was peeking out between a crack in the open door, giving him the suspicious look. The suspicious look turned into a somewhat surprised one. Clint opened the door all the way, frowned up and down at Bruce, and then said, “So Bigfoot let you out, huh? Well color me surprised, the last time I saw you I had to threaten to beat Hulk up to do it.”

Bruce gave Clint a wryly unimpressed look, and then allowed himself an equally wry smile. “Yeah, good times, that. Hulk still loses it laughing whenever we think back on that. In fact, he’s snickering even as we speak.” Hulk really was. 

Clint squinted at Bruce and then asked, “So, he’s still--” he sort of waved his fingers a bit at his head, illustrating the idea.

“Yeah, he’s with me. But that’s not why I’m here. Do you have a shirt or something I can borrow?”

Clint grunted, turned around, disappeared into his bedroom, and then came back and tossed a large t-shirt at Bruce. It was an over-sized Stark Tech t-shirt, with something about _proud to be a blood donor_ printed on it. “That’s not mine,” Clint said. “Found it in the drawers over there. Didn’t want to give you anything I’d mourn if you hulked out in it.”

Bruce spread the shirt out between his hands to measure the size of it. Yeah, too big by far for his skinny frame, but Clint was right about hulking out and lost clothing. “Thanks,” he said, and went off to find his own bedroom. 

\--

There were fancy soaps and shampoos in his private bathroom, and disposable razors. There was that pair of scissors that Jan used to trim Hulk’s hair, and Bruce spent a blissful afternoon pampering himself and feeling like he’d finally come out of the woods into civilization at last. When he finally emerged from his bedroom, it was late-afternoon, and JARVIS informed him that Steve, Clint, and Thor were down in the training rooms. Bruce took the elevator down. 

He promptly lost the blood donor shirt when Hulk decided that he wanted to come out and join the Avengers training session. 

_We need to talk about us and our clothes,_ Bruce grumbled at Hulk from inside their heard. Hulk just grinned and proceeded to smash his way through a line of robots on the training room floor. 

Clint swooped in to take out a robot that had been coming behind Hulk. “Glad to see you back, Big Guy,” Clint called, before dashing out again. Hulk really did grin at that, before bringing his fist back to take out another training robot. He and Hawkeye were working together now, going through the training sequence. Bruce watched all of this, and brushed an imaginary tear from his eye, for the show of it. _Hulk is growing up so fast and making new friends,_ Bruce teased. 

Hulk just wrinkled his nose and grunted. Bruce’s smile in their mind’s eye simply broadened at that. Even a few weeks ago, Hulk would have had some kind of caustic remark, but now he didn’t. Hulk really was growing up, and it was a pleasure for Bruce to see it.

\--

Hulk even let Bruce out for breakfast the next morning. Or maybe Hulk had decided he’d rather just sleep in. Whatever it was, Bruce wandered into the kitchen wearing, again, the over-sized shorts, but also a borrowed bathrobe that he’d found in his closet. 

Tony had come by for breakfast, and Steve was doing his daily routine of push-ups over the morning paper. They both looked up in some surprise at this skinny, badly-dressed person coming in for his morning Joe. 

“Don’t mind me,” Bruce said, all dry tones. He made his way to the coffee pot to pour himself a mug. 

Tony said, thoughtfully, “We ought to have Jan take you out shopping.” 

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Bruce admitted. He added sugar and creamer to his coffee, took a sip, and ahh, this was bliss. 

“I’m not going to let you keep wandering around here looking like a hobo,” Tony retorted. “It makes me look like I’m too stingy to outfit this team properly.”

Bruce shrugged, not feeling strongly either way about things, to be honest. Steve stood up, and went over, offering his hand. “I’ve met your other half, but I don’t believe the two of us have been properly introduced. Just call me Steve.”

“I’m Bruce.” They shook hands. Steve went to the fridge to prepare his favored concoction of raw eggs. Bruce sat down next to Tony, who was having his usual health food breakfast of some kind of sesame seed tofu dish. 

“Hmm,” Bruce said into his coffee. He was looking at the tofu. “You know, you weren’t quite what I expected, from hearing about the infamous Tony Stark,” Bruce remarked. “I mean, the tofu still surprises me.”

Tony took on a rather impish smile at that. “I know, I know. Tony Stark, manufacturer of weapons—I should probably be downing steaks and vodka for breakfast. Something like that. Sinister and manly meals.”

“Stick to the tofu,” Steve said, coming to sit down with them. He was looking at Tony in a rather studious way, and Tony retorted, “I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to my health, you know.”

Bruce drank his coffee, feeling surprisingly content with his morning, and he idly pondered fixing himself some scrambled eggs and toast. Life, he thought, was pretty good. He was getting out, getting a little fresh air. Hulk seemed happier these days. Bruce congratulated himself on a series of very good life decisions, starting with his having made a peace with Hulk in the first place, and ending with his guiding Hulk to the life of heroism that was helping Hulk mature and become his own person. 

That train of thought was interrupted by the sound of incoming persons, all chatter and shoes on fancy polished floors. Then Jan and Thor were coming through the door with “Donuts!” Jan announced happily, and Clint had come in too at their heels, demanding to know where was his Saturday morning Danish. And then Bruce had to mourn yet another lost article of clothing, scruffy though the bathrobe had been, because the Hulk loved donuts.

 _We really need to talk about this clothes issue,_ Bruce said testily. 

Hulk was too busy stuffing his face with donuts to listen. He just sent a gruff sound like laughter back at Bruce, and Bruce finally just settled back to watch the usual Saturday morning antics. 

Oh well. There were donuts, and the Avengers like a kind of family eating and shouting at each other in Tony’s fancy mansion kitchen. Bruce smiled, looking at it all from over Hulk’s figurative shoulder. Yeah, life was still good.


End file.
